The Hogwarts You Never See
by Grawp4President
Summary: This is Hogwarts like you've never seen!  The unrated hookups and party life of the renowned school of magic.  Following the story of HBP, with all the 'naughty' you didn't see!


The Hogwarts You Never See

ONE - _Just One Drink..._

**A/N: Before we start off on this new story let me explain that this IS NOT my story. This idea and story was/is being thought by a friend of mine, who wanted to write a story but asked me to do the actual writing, (she doesn't think she's a good writer.) I haven't added anything to my other stories in months, and I'm going to try to finish them up. In the meantime, here's "Hogwarts Gone Wild" as I call it. Enjoy?**

Harry Potter looked repulsed by the foul-smelling drink that was just thrust under his nose. He never liked to drink hard alcohol much, he thought all his past attempts had been disastrousHe had always considered himself a firm butterbeer drinker.Harry looked around the common room, _I don't want to be the only sober one,_ he thought to himself.

"Fine, fine," said Harry calmly. "But just this one!"

"That a boy Harry!" slurred George, giving him a thumbs up. "You earned it!"

Harry drank deeply, forcing down the fire whisky. He managed to repress a cough just long enough until George wobbled away, his red hair fading into the crowd. Harry coughed at the hot sensation the fire whisky left in his throat and mouth.

"Harry! There you are mate," Ron emerged from the throng, still in his Quidditch uniform, with his hair looking particularly windswept. "I missed you after the game, Lavender wanted me to go celebrate immediately."

"A private celebration I'm guessing?" chuckled Harry, already starting to mildly feel the fire whisky.

"Lay off," smirked Ron. "That was a brilliant catch, mind you. You missed the look on Malfoy's face! Looked like a combination of a fish out of water and a troll."

This mental picture amused Harry greatly, and the strong whisky was taking it's hold. Harry wanted more, and soon. "Ron, do you know where the fire whisky is?"

"Fred and George have it, but they're being bloody picky about who gets some," Ron gestured to the corner, where Fred's booming voice could be heard. "Won't even give their own brother any!"

Harry laughed and pushed his way towards Fred, who indeed had a large bottle of the red hot drink. A gaggle of girls stood to the left of him, trying their hardest to get some of it. Fred naturally had some of the joke shop goods out, entertaining some wide-eyed second years.

"Harry!" he shouted. "Just the man I wanted to see!"

"If you don't mind asking Fred," began Harry. "Do you think I could..."

"No need to ask!" replied Fredthrusting the bottle into Harry's chest. " No one deserves this more than you."

"You said I could have it!" whined one of the girls. Harry glanced over and recognized Romilda Vane.

"Harry won the game, Harry gets the drink," exclaimed Fred loudly, standing up. He made a few uneasy leans before deciding to sit back down.

"Thanks! You read my mind," said Harry, taking a hearty swig off the bottle and handing it back to Fred

"Oho! So the 'Chosen One' seems to take a liking to fire whisky!" George emerged out of nowhere, with a box under his arm.

"Not quite," chuckled Harry. "I just didn't want to miss out."

"Sure, sure," smiled George dropping the box at Fred's feet and kneeling down to open it. "I've been waiting for a good time to break these out."

"Perfect," yawned Fred. "I was getting a bit tired."

"This is our newest creation ," said George in awe, pulling some minuscule fireworks out of the box**. "**Tiny versions of our beloved fireworks, can't catch anything on fire and perfect for indoor celebrations!"

Thinking that being close to a drunk Fred and George Weasley who happened to have fireworks a bad idea, Harry pushed his way over to the fire. Seamus and Dean were sitting over a long since abandoned game of chess, a butterbeer in each of their hands.They were having a very animated conversation, complete with arm waving and strange faces. Harry curiously wandered over.

"No!" laughed Dean, taking a sip. "The ugliest child on earth would be the kid of Snape and Umbridge!"

"Ah! Bad mental image! Bad mental image!" shouted Seamus.

Harry liked to strongly believe both Snape and Umbridge were creatures incapable of any sort of reproduction. He thought that it was better if he stayed out of this conversation, and collapsed into a surprisingly empty armchair. As he felt more and more effected by the whisky, he thought about something missing. _Where's Hermione?_

"Hey Harry!" called a familiar voice. He turned to see that Ginny had come to sit with Dean. Seamus apparently left, taking the 'ugliest abomination ever' conversation with him. "Have you seen Hermione?"

"I was thinking the same thing!" said Harry a little too loudly. He was drunk, no denying that, but he wasn't too bad. Ron had teased him in the past about being such a light-weight. "You know her, she doesn't like a good party!"

Ginny laughed, more at Harry then with him, and turned her attention to Dean. Harry immediately felt awkward and hurried to find Ron. On the way over Harry bumped into the hulking frame of Cormac McLaggen. Harry sort of bounced off, tapping up against Romilda Vane. _Who's looking pretty good tonight, _thought Harry.

"Hey," said Romilda, who had at last gotten hold of the fire whisky. "Fancy a drink Harry?"

Harry's thoughts clashed, he knew he had enough, but more wouldn't hurt...

"Yes," blurted Harry. "That would be nice."

"Alright," giggled Romilda, conjuring a glass, and pouring some for Harry. "You played great today."

"Thanks," gurgled Harry from his glass.

"You know," continued Romilda. "Slughorn is having another party soon. You can bring guests too, did you know that?"

"Yeah," said Harry lamely, wishing everyone could just forget about the stupid party. "I don't know if I'll be going though."

"That would be a shame," pouted Romilda. "Would you like to go sit down by the fire?"

"Sure," said Harry, as he felt his fingers start to go numb. "There's some... chairs?"

"Move," commanded Romilda sharply at a small boy who was occupying and armchair nearest the fire. "Here we are Harry."

Harry stumbled and bumbled over to the armchair, falling into it in a heap. He tried to regain himself as Romilda pulled up another right next to his.

"I think I drank too much," said Harry, who could feel his hand to eye coordination falling to pieces.

"You're talking normal," said Romilda, batting her eyelids with no attempt at being subtle. "Just sit for awhile, it'll wear off."

"Wear off," mumbled Harry. "Good."

"So have you been taking anyone into consideration about Slughorn's party?" said Romilda coyly.

"Not really," said Harry. "I mean, I don't know yet."

"It sounds like a lot of fun," Romilda traced her fingers along Harry's hand. "I would love to go."

"Would you?" smiled Harry, the alcohol in full effect.

"Very much," smirked Romilda, easing her way out her armchair and into Harry's. "It's awful noisy in here, would you like to go out in the corridor?"

"That sounds nice," started Harry, snapping out of his stupor for a moment. "But I just saw someone I need to talk to, sorry."

Romilda glanced in the direction Harry was looking at to give whoever it was a dirty look, but Harry was already on his feet and stumbling over to the portrait hole. As he shook off the Creevey bothers, saying that he had to 'get a bit of air,' he ran smack into Hermione.

"Hi!" exclaimed Harry, grabbing her in a tight hug. _Wow, she is looking good._

"Hi Harry," stammered Hermione. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, but I need air," stated Harry, trying his hardest to stand straight. "Walk with me?"

Hermione could tell Harry would most likely not find his way back to the common rom by himself. "Alright, but just for a little while..."

**A/N: Enjoy it? Boring? I also thought so, but we'll have to see what comes next. I'm not making it up I'm just writing it! Leave some feedback, thanks.**


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